Stakeout
by Collegekid2006
Summary: Lassie and Jules are on a stakeout. And they have a tagalong. Shules.


"Seriously?" Lassiter snorted, turning to Juliet in the passenger's seat and asking her the same question he'd asked her a thousand times over the last two weeks. "_Spencer?_"

"Yes," she rolled her eyes, lowering the binoculars. "Seriously. I'm dating Shawn."

"But _why?_" he demanded, still refusing to believe it. "Did you lose a bet?" His eyes narrowed as he shined his small flashlight in her eyes, checking her pupils. "Oh, God, O'Hara…did he drug you?"

"No!" Juliet laughed, pushing the flashlight out of her face. "He didn't drug me. He didn't hypnotize me. And he doesn't have any blackmail material! We're just…dating."

Lassiter just stared at her blankly, none of the words making any sense to him. "But…_why?_" he demanded again.

Juliet rolled her eyes, once again lifting her binoculars to them as she peered at the parking lot in front of them. "Just to tick you off," she murmured. "Now, can we please just pay attention to the stakeout?"

"Fine." Lassiter muttered, griping the steering wheel as he glared out the windshield purposefully.

The silent vigilance lasted all of five seconds.

"_Spencer?_" he burst out again, still completely baffled by the entire concept.

She groaned and dropped her head against the dashboard, silently praying the perps showed up soon.

"You rang?" a voice from the back seat piped up. They both whirled around, only to see Shawn, grinning widely at them as he pulled himself up off the floor and collapsed onto the bench seat.

"Spencer!" Lassiter growled. "This is a stakeout! What the hell are you doing here?"

"What?" Shawn blinked innocently. "A guy can't visit his girlfriend at the office?"

"Girlfriend?" Juliet repeated, looking somewhat skeptical.

"What?" Shawn asked, turning to her now. "Too soon?"

"No…" she shook her head, smiling with just the faintest hint of a blush coloring her cheeks, though in the dark it was impossible for anyone to see subtle change in her complexion. "That's just the first time you've called me that…I kind of like it."

"Really?" Shawn grinned, raising his eyebrows suggestively as he leaned across the seat. "If we were texting, you'd totally be my GF. I'd make you my BFF, too, but I think Gus would cry."

"Spencer!" Lassiter snapped again, putting his palm over Shawn's face and pushing him back into the back seat. "Get out! You're interfering with a police investigation!"

"Even police investigators have to eat." Shawn rebutted, reaching onto the floor and producing a Scooby-Doo thermos with a flourish.

"What the hell is _that?_" Lassiter scoffed.

"Scooby-Doo." Shawn explained lightly, as if talking to a five-year-old. "He's a dog who solves crimes. Just like Lassie! And he's got a smoking hot partner, too," he added, grinning and arching a roguish eyebrow at Juliet. "I think her name's Velma."  
"Velma's the bookworm." Juliet corrected him. "Daphne's the hot one."

"Maybe I like bookworms…" Shawn gushed, leaning over the seat again. "And blonde Jr. Detectives…"

"Spencer!" Lassiter shouted, pushing him away again. "I don't give a damn about Scooby-Doo!"

"But do you give a damn about tomato soup?" Shawn asked with a grin, holding the thermos up, waving it tantalizing through the air.

"Shawn…" Juliet stepped in, seeing the vein in her partner's temple starting to throb. "We don't need soup. Okay? We're on a stakeout. I told you I'll call you in 48 hours when we're done."

Shawn blinked, looking hurt by the brush-off. "Not even with oyster crackers?"

"You brought oyster crackers?" Juliet looked over at her partner, clearly tempted by the raised stakes.

Lassiter rolled his eyes, but finally just gave up. "You can have the damn soup," he groaned, glaring at Shawn. "But Spencer has to get the hell out before--"

"You can't have soup and oyster crackers without a beverage," Shawn interrupted him, reaching onto the floor again, this time producing a bottle of wine and a two glasses. "It's red," he added proudly.

"Spencer!" Lassiter snarled, his fingers tensing around the steering wheel as he rapidly reached the end of his rope. "You're not turning my stakeout into a picnic! Leave the soup and get out! And take the stupid wine with you!"

"But it's red!" Shawn protested, looking at Juliet for support.

Lassiter glared at her, clearly expecting her to tell Shawn to take a hike.

She cleared her throat as her eyes darted between the two of them. "Uh—"

Before she could complete her sentence, there was a soft knock on Lassiter's window.

"What the hell--?" Lassiter jumped, turning towards the noise. Outside his window was a teenager dressed in a blue polo shirt with a purple visor pulled low over his brow. He was holding a large, flat cardboard box.

"Uh…" the kid asked through the still closed door. "Did someone order a pizza?"

"That'd be me," Shawn raised his hand, reaching over Lassiter and pushing the front door open.

"You ordered a pizza?!" Lassiter shouted, the vein in his forehead about to burst now. "Spencer! We're on a stakeout! The perps could show up any minute! You just put the whole operation in jeopardy!"

"Well, I didn't know if you liked tomato soup," Shawn explained. "It's rude to show up at a picnic without something everyone likes."

"This isn't a damn picnic!"

"Uh…" the pizza boy cleared his throat awkwardly, still holding the steaming box. "You owe me 21.95 for the pizza."

Shawn tapped his pockets. "I'm tapped out, Lassie. Can you get that for me?"

"I'm not paying for your pizza!"

"Well, I'm not leaving until _someone_ pays." The pizza boy insisted, tapping his foot impatiently and holding out his hand, his eyes narrowing at the detective.

"Fine." Lassiter groaned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. He forked over the money and snatched the box out of his hands with a scowl. "Just get the hell out of here before you scare off my perps!"

The pizza boy flipped through the bills smugly. "Seriously?" he snorted, raising his eyebrows threateningly. "A 2 tip? With a police investigation on the line?"

Lassiter glared at him, not about to be blackmailed by the little punk. "I could arrest you for interfering with a police investigation. And if I do, you'd better believe I'm taking back my tip!"

The pizza boy cleared his throat, pocketing the bills quickly. "2 is good," he mumbled, hurrying off.

Lassiter turned back to Shawn, throwing the pizza box at him. "You owe me 23." He growled bitterly. "And get the hell out! Now!"

"Carlton…" Juliet spoke up, smiling at Shawn. "He did bring us dinner…"

"Yeah, Lassie." Shawn nodded in agreement.

"No." Lassiter snapped. "He brought a cartoon dog and a zit-faced kid with an attitude problem! You're not going to mess this up, Spencer! We've been after these guys for a month! Get the hell out!"

"Okay, okay…" Shawn raised his hands defensively, opening the back door and stepping out.

He leaned back in a second later. "Call me." He grinned.

"I will," Juliet promised with a smile.

"Oh." Shawn blinked at her. "You can call, too, I guess…but I meant Lassie."

He winked at her and shut the door, gone as quickly as he had come. The pizza was still on the back seat next to the thermos of soup.

"Seriously, O'Hara?" Lassiter demanded, raising an eyebrow at her. "_Spencer?_"

"Yes!" She laughed, reaching into the back seat and grabbing the thermos, opening it and inhaling the delicious smells wafting through the air.

"_Why?_"

"Because…" she smiled, taking a long, slow sip. "He brought oyster crackers."


End file.
